And so begins the task I have dreaded the coming of for so long

Yet each man kills the thing he loves

By each let this be heard
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!

Some kill their love when they are young,
And some when they are old;
Some strangle with the hands of Lust,
Some with the hands of Gold:
The kindest use a knife, because
The dead so soon grow cold.

Some love too little, some too long,
Some sell, and others buy;
Some do the deed with many tears,
And some without a sigh:
For each man kills the thing he loves,
Yet each man does not die.

He would stare at empty chairs
Think of the ghosts that once sat there
The ghosts who broke his heart.

To the outside
The dead leaves, they are alive
For they don't have trees to hang their hearts

There never is much time between hello and goodbye

I've said goodbye a thousand times and every time you changed my mind.

Last Night Bobby Wratten Saved My Life.

Love does the hiding, we the seeking.